Jay Kirby was startled by a far-off sound of a fire truck coming at him, or so he thought. When he gathered his senses and started to wake up, he realized that it was just his phone ringing. The clock on his night stand shouted 3:00am with large, bright , red numbers. His wife, Julie, turned toward him at the sound but remained in the land of warm darkness and and sweet dreams. The time of the call made Jay understand the importance of it, instantly.

“Jay, I think Billy is in trouble again.”

Jay was used to these calls now, sadly. His sister had not been a good mother and seemed to follow in their mother’s footsteps when it came to parenthood. They had both been left to their own devices as youngsters and it seemed that Jy had fared better than his sister.

His sister had difficulty getting along with others, and that seemed never to change. Jay had learned to go along to get along so that he might prosper and avoid issues with those around him. Their father had died at a young age and the two children were more than their mother could manage most of the time.

Jay’s sister had married a good man but chased him off with her drinking and philandering. She made no secrets of her intentions with other men and followed through with her threats often. Bob Jones, her husband, had tried to stay on the home for their son Billy, but their marriage had been broken so badly and so often that he had to finally leave. He was left with no other options.

Mary wouldn’t let Billy travel to the adjoining state to where his father now lived , so their relationship suffered. Billy began his downward spiral into trouble when there was no father in the house to enforce the rules or to talk with about things only a boy and his father can talk about.

Mary had received everything from their parent’s estate except for two rifles that Jay told his father that he wanted, years ago. She received everything else and was still not happy. She made her husband feel useless as she flaunted her inherited wealth over him and made his life a misery. He told Billy that he was welcome to come and see him whenever he wished as he packed his bags and left. Bib had tried to keep in contact with his son, but Mary wouldn’t have it and worked hard at destroying their relationship.

The predictable outcome soon arrived with several interactions between the police and Billy. Billy was soon in trouble with the law for several minor incidents including drunk in public and possession of weed. He was headed down the wrong avenue and into certain trouble.

Jay, Billy’s uncle, a retired cop was troubled by the turn of events and tried to take the place of Billy’s father. he and his wife lived nearby Paradise Valley, Arizona and Jay often invited Billy to play handball and golf with them when he could get Billy’s attention, which wasn’t nearly as often as he would have liked. As Jay sat up on one elbow and talked to his sister while watching his wife sleep, he wondered what the future held for Billy.

“What is it this time?” he asked his sister.

“I heard noises in the garage and went down to see what was happening. You know Billy’s a n ight owl these days and needs watching. Thank goodness he’s still got his ankle bracelet on and can’t go far from the house. I cracked the door open to the garage to see what I could. It doesn’t look good.

There are two men out there with Billy, Jay. They have him seated on his father’s weight bench and they’re beating the hell out of him. I don’t know what to do. He’s covered in blood. I don’t know how badly he is injured Jay. I can’t call the police. Billy is on probation, and it will just make his next court appearance look that much worse. I’m at my wits end.”

“I’ll get dressed and come over. Do you still have your pistol?”

“Yes Jay.”

“Make sure the door from the garage into your house is locked. Grab your pistol and and find a place to hide downstairs. If they come in for you, they will most likely go upstairs first. Don’t hesitate to shoot them if you feel threatened. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Jay climbed out of bed and walked quickly to his large walk-in closet and found the darkest jeans and shirt he could find. He put them on and took a couple of handkerchiefs out of his bureau and stuffed them into his pant’s pocket. He grabbed his black shoes that he wore as a cop with one large hand and walked out of the closet with his shoulder holster in the other.

The shoes reminded him of work and the fact that he hadn’t found himself yet in this world of retirement and non-cop neighbors. He checked his blue .38 to see if it was still loaded as he slung the shoulder holster up and put it on. The gun was loaded, as always. He held the gun in his hand and felt the weight of it. He was instantly comforted by something that he knew so well. He had only fired the weapon once while working as a cop but the hearing after the incident had gone well for him. The board found the shooting to be a good one. Jay slipped the the back in the snug, leather holster. It was a perfect fit.

He hadn’t been in bed long before the phone call had come in. he had been out playing cards with a few cop buddies and had won a few bucks just to add to the satisfaction of the night’s outing. His brother had lost a few bucks there as well. That was a little added pleasure for Jay. Seth had finally got a chance to get away from his work and wife. Seth had little time lately for family visits with all the hours that he was working at the supermarket. These nights of card playing had become a routine for Jay since retiring and he looked forward to them and seeing his brother when he was able to come out and play.

He walked across the bedroom, holding his shoes in his left hand and made his way to the kitchen. The house was as dark as death, but the route was one he remembered well.

He and his wife had lived in this great house for nearly ten years now. They had planned their respective retirements well and were now reaping the benefits of those plans. Julie had been a police dispatcher. They had met at work and started dating, against all the rules that were in place. Jay saw her and unlike man y others working around him, took a chance and asked her out. The rest, as they say, was history.

Jay sat down in his chair at the head of the long dinning room table where his wife and two sons had eating a thousand times over the last few years and put his shoes on. The seven chairs in front of him stood like silent sentinels. he scribbled a note to his wife that his sister had called, and that he had to go. He told her not to worry. It sat on the kitchen counter by the coffee maker.

Family memories rushed into his head as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, and he saw the shapes and glimmers of photos, trophies from years gone by sitting on the breakfront. He turned and grabbed his keys that sat in the dish on the kitchen counter behind him. His oldest son had made it out of ceramic clay in third grade.

His sons were gone and married now. They booth seemed happy in their lives. “But who really knows what is going on in someone’s marriage?” Jay thought. He had seen so many seemingly good marriages fall to pieces after many years of supposed happiness. His parent’s marriage was a good example of that.

As Jay’s father had once told Jay when he was a senior in high school and after he had far too many martinis, “You go through this life alone Jay, and you only get one shot at it as far as I know. Treat your family as well as you can, but remember, you’ll leave this place with exactly what you came in with, nothing. It’s what you do that matters.”

That conversation with his father and a few unfortunate incidents along the way had made jay decide to on a career in law enforcement. He was strong and tough and got through the academy with ease and never looked back.

Jay turned and walked quickly to the narrow door that led to the garage, opened it silently and took one step down to the garage floor. he navigated the step in the darkness and then turned the lights on.

He flipped the light switch, and the room appeared in front of him as if by magic. The garage reminded Jay of the county morgue which he had visited often on his duties as a police officer. Shelves and cabinets lined the walls of the perfectly clean garage. a large cabinet ran the width of the garage. The top was a work bench. A peg board fastened to the wall held tools for any job.

Then Jay saw it as he looked back to the center of the large room. There it sat. The reward for many years of hard work and long separations from his family, sitting on the floor in front of him. It was a dark blue Corvette.

The car sat low and wide under the lights and looked as good as it had five years ago when he bought it. He could smell the acrid aroma of the wide tires on the car in front of him. The car was a masterpiece as far as jay could tell. The motor was still cooling down after arriving home a few hours ago from his card game with the guys. The motor was still “clicking” as it cooled down. The hood still felt warm to Jay’s touch.

Jay wasn’t sure of what he might need for the evening ahead, so he unlocked and opened his one special cabinet filled with an assortment of items related to work to his former work. He grabbed a pair of gloves, a balaclava and some zip ties, just in case.

he slid his hand over the silky smooth paint of his car as he walked over to the passenger’s door. The finish ion the car was perfect. Jay opened the door and slid into the passenger’s seat as well as a six-foot-two inch man weighing two-hundred and five pounds could.

He opened the glove compartment and placed the items that he had gathered into it, just in case he might need them. The night ahead was filled with unknown and potentially dangerous possibilities.

“You know Jay, that car of yours is for a much smaller and younger man,” he had heard his wife say more than once. He realized that she was probably correct but he would never admit it. he loved this car more than nearly everything. Thankfully he could still get in and out of nthe car with a little thought and a few groans. That was good enough for him, and besides, younger guys seldom could afford a car like this one.

“Those of us who are older and financially stable are who these cars are made for in the first place dear,” he often told his wife. His wife would just smile when he mentioned that to her.

Jay climbed out of the passenger seat of the car and walked around the beautiful machine. he opened the driver’s door and settled in.

Jay pushed the button on the automatic garage door opener hanging on the driver’s visor and the garage door opened silently. Jay turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to life with a low rumble. It made him think of of his neighbors trying to sleep a few hundred feet away. he backed out looking over his shoulder. he never remembered to use the back-up camera. “Old habits die hard,” he thought as he realized that he hadn’t used the expensive device once again.

Jay backed the car slowly out of the wide garage until it settled on the driveway rocking slightly as the powerful engine purred. Jay climbed out of the car and left it running. He noticed the black night sky filled with blinking stars sending down light millions of years old to guide him back into his large three car garage. The dry air carried the aromas of Jasmine and cactus blooms.

Jay thought that he might need a shotgun just in case. If there were two men in the garage, might not there be a third as a look out posted somewhere outside? “A shotgun might tend to even things out just a little,” Jay mused.

Jay walked to his gun cabinet, spun the dial and set to work on the combination. It went well this time. Sometimes he had to do it more than once to get into the cabinet.

He opened the thick, gray, metal doors and found two rifles. He grabbed both and sat them on his work bench. He found a blanket to wrap them ii and then laid them in the car behind the seat. They were nearly as long as the car was wide. He grabbed some shot gun shells and checked to see if the rifle was loaded. It was. He loaded the the shotgun with several cartridges and placed it back inside the blanket. He heard the click each time the cartridge came to rest in its proper place.

He climbed back into the car with a groan and remembered what his wife has said so many times to before. He closed the door softly.

He put the car in reverse and backed into the wide cul-de-sac. He then put the car in into drive and aimed it down the black street toward his sister’s house five miles away. He let the car move slowly forward without giving it too much gas until was away from his neighbors homes and out on highway 60 which led into the desert and eventually in the direction of Phoenix.

He pushed the accelerator to the floor and the car woke up and became what it was meant to be. His head snapped back each time the car changed gears. He was soon driving down the road at ninety-five miles an hour and heading to his sister’s house with the future sunrise at his back. He had about two hours to work in.

The warm air blew through his thinning hair. He let up on the gas at the first turn and then pressed it down hard again. The engine came to life at six thousand RPMS. The car sped on faster and seemed to hug the road even better, the faster he drove.

He took two turns faster than he should have and the tires reminded him with squeals as the rear end slid slightly sideways. A quick flip of the steering wheel brought the car back under control. The surface of the road had been neglected and he could feel that under his tires and the hard racing suspension.

He had almost lost control on a second sharp corner and his heart raced as the back of the car began to slide off the road, again. He turned the steering wheel to the left a hair and the car straightened out quickly. “Is this why men drive race cars?” he wondered as his heart pounded in his chest and a blast of adrenaline coursed through his veins.

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This might not be your cup of tea, but I like to change things up now and then. This book is now on Amazon and Kindle.

More of “Joe in Africa” tonight or tomorrow. It’s raining here so no tennis on Wednesday. I will be on the computer all day Wednesday instead, working on three different projects. I want to thank all of you who stop by to take a look at my nonsense.

I’m at cowboyproductions52@gmail.com if wish to send a comment.